His Loving Arms
by Tigertopaz-Titanium Banana
Summary: When all else fails, Alex knows he can come back to the arms of the one he loves. But what happens when those arms become damaged? What happens when they let him fall? Slash, Torture, language
1. Rescue From Hell on Earth

**Hello people, and welcome to **_**His Loving Arms! **_**Insanely Me has written this lovely first prologue, and so I thank her for that.**

**Summary: ****When all else fails, Alex knows he can come back to the arms of the one he loves. But what happens when those arms become damaged? What happens when they let him fall?**

**Warnings: Slash, torture scenes, language, excessive use of Barry Manilow lyrics…**

**Rating: M**

**We disclaim anything you recognize. We no own Alex Rider. **

**Introducing…*drumroll***

**Insanely Me's His Loving Arms Chapter 1: Rescue From Hell on Earth**

It was easy to infiltrate the enemy's base. Way too easy. He might be new to this, but no one, not even the most incompetent fools, would leave a building (small, and painted a ghastly green) unlocked and unguarded, with a prisoner inside, and no booby-traps. Unless…

"_Unless what?" _he thought to himself. Had they abandoned the place? Were all the stolen goods gone? All the men dead?

He sat up straighter and shook his head to get rid of the thought, fiddling with his pack as he did so. It wasn't his job to think, it was to follow orders. He was supposed to tune out the grays of the world, and reset his tint to black and white. Let his superiors worry about the colors.

The group leader raised his hand, and then brought it down in a choppy motion. The soldier swallowed, and his hands shook (it was his first major outing after all), but he stood up. He cocked his gun as quietly as he could, and walked around some of his fellow unit members.

One of them, _Turtle_, if he remembers right, paused amongst the quiet chaos for a moment to place his hand on the new comer's shoulder.

"_Good luck." _The reptilian nicknamed man mouthed to him, and before he could reply, the man was gone, setting himself up at his own spot.

He scurried to his own designated place as the other soldiers glared at him, and as soon as he was there, they marched towards the open door.

His heart pounded in his chest, and it seemed as if it was trying to climb up his throat. He pushed down his fear, and took in a deep lungful of air.

They walked in (without dying, he was very relieved) and he was immediately hit by the smell.

If it had smelled like bleach and death, he would have been fine. That's what he had been warned of, been trained to expect. But he wasn't expecting Pina Coladas and summer time fragrances that hung around the room.

The color of the walls matched the smell, with a pineapple yellow and a hula dancer wall trim around the top. A seashell lamp sat on a quaint coffee table, and a pile of dusty magazines lay in the floor. The sound of _Copacabana _by Barry Manilow filled the air.

In fact, if it wasn't for the man in army fatigues weeping on the floor, he would have thought they had been sent the wrong coordinates and were in a civilian's home.

They quickly searched the house, and the soldier was relieved when no one was found.

Ferret, the leader of their unit, motioned them back as he walked up to the man and crouched down.

"Wolf?" he questioned. The man on the floor turned towards Ferret's voice.

He took in the whole unit (all six of them, the largest group in the SAS), and then Wolf was on his feet.

The new soldier jerked back as the imprisoned soldier swung his fist and clipped him in the nose.

The rest of his unit sprung into motion, like a well-oiled machine, and in moments of the sudden attack, Wolf was lying in the floor, unconscious and being strapped into a fold out stretcher.

He wiped at his nose gingerly, pulling his fingers back and checking for blood. Luckily, it wasn't bleeding, but it was throbbing.

Turtle walked over to him and handed him an ice-pack, nodding when the other soldier thanked him.

"Wha-" the soldier started, but the older man cut him off.

"Most likely PTSD. He's been imprisoned for what, two, three months? He was probably brainwashed." Turtle told him, nonchalantly, as if things like this happened every day.

"_Probably did happen every day." _he thought to himself as two of his fellow soldiers lifted the Wolf fellow up, and the seven of them filed out of the door, noticeably louder than when they had gone in.

As they left the deserted green house and got into their military issued jeep, with his nose still hurting and the man Wolf still worrying his mind, the young soldier couldn't get the song out of his head.

_Her name was Lola_

_She was a showgirl_

_But that was thirty years ago when they used to have a show…_

-XD-

**Insanely Me AN: Hope you enjoyed!**

_**Tigertopaz- Titanium Banana AN: Sigh…poor Wolf. Eh, well, maybe we'll see what the outcome is next chapter…**_

**Please Review! A minute of your time for lots of ours!**

**Insanely Me and Tigertopaz- Titanium Banana**


	2. Copacabana Crazy

**Welcome to the second installment of this wonderful story, **_**His Loving Arms!**_

**Summary: ****When all else fails, Alex knows he can come back to the arms of the one he loves. But what happens when those arms become damaged? What happens when they let him fall?**

**Warnings: Slash, torture scenes, language, excessive use of Barry Manilow lyrics…**

**Rating: M**

**I disclaim anything you recognize. I no own Alex Rider. **

**Introducing…*drumroll***

**His Loving Arms Chapter 2: Copacabana Crazy**

_Wolf was still sitting in his room, staring blankly at the colored walls. He wondered if the ever-playing melodies of Copacabana were another means of mental torture._

_The man knew that they were, of course. There was no doubt. Wolf knew men that had been in similar experiences. It was just that he had thought he would never be in one himself._

_He thought he heard footsteps coming down the hallway. He was never sure. Nothing could ever be certain in this place._

_The door opened, and someone stepped in the room. They- for Wolf could never tell their gender; their baggy clothing hid everything- were armed, as usual. No surprise there._

"_He wants to see you now," the guard stated in a monotone. That was one of the things Wolf hated about this place- how anonymous it was. He hadn't been told any names, not even a code name, and everything was so concealed. Every single time he had been taken in for a "session," it was always a different person. Never had he had the same person twice. It wasn't one of those clichéd times where the villain tied the hero up and told him everything. This was impersonal. And it was weird._

_There was no use fighting. With a soft, almost inaudible sigh, Wolf clambered awkwardly to his feet and walked toward the person. As usual, the guard dug dirty rag out of Its pocket, and pressed it against Wolf's face. The man smelled the familiar sickly-sweet scent of chloroform before he was out._

…

_When he woke up, he was tied to a chair. A masculine, rough voice was saying something. Wolf shook his head and tried to pay attention._

"_- that your precious 'SAS' is coming to get you. It was only a matter of time in the end," the man said angrily. "Such a shame…I would have wanted to keep you a little longer. But no matter. I'm sure your young lover will enjoy telling us where you'll be hiding this time."_

_Wolf tuned the guy out. He looked down at himself, and didn't like what he saw. Stun belts were around his waist, arms, and legs._

_The SAS had been told about them in their weapons training. Stun belts were, obviously, a torture device, made to give electrical shocks to the victim. They carried a battery and control pack, and contained features designed to keep the victims from taking them off. Some types of stun belts were activated through a remote signal sent to the control pack, and some were activated through movement. Usually, they were used in the US to control prisoners. Maybe that was where he was at?_

_A sharp slap to his cheek quickly brought him back to the present. "Pay attention!" the man spat. "You don't want me to activate those too quickly, do you?" He gestured towards the stun belts._

"_You have been a pleasure to work with, so to speak," The man purred. "But, seeing as you may be about to leave, we're going to do a repeat lesson."_

_Wolf's eyebrows scrunched up. A repeat lesson on what?_

"_Last night, I believe one of my, let's put it this way, co-workers taught you a lesson."_

_Oh. A repeat lesson on __**that**__. Wolf shuddered involuntarily, and the man must have noticed, for he let out a rasping chuckle._

"_It's amazing what Chinese water torture can do to you," he smirked, and Wolf growled, not much unlike his namesake- or, really, nick-namesake. "Shut the hell up!" he yelled. He didn't need any of this man's bullshit._

_The man bent over and looked Wolf square in the face. "Look at the little Wolf," he cooed. "All bark and no bite." He suddenly straightened up then, and Wolf could see that he was all business._

"_Now, I hope you understand that there is some…business that we need to attend to." Smirking, the man pulled a small remote out of his pocket. How totally cliché._

_It had several buttons, and Wolf knew with a sinking feeling what they were for._

_The man's lips tightened. "I've received orders from the higher-ups that you need more discipline training, so to speak." Wolf could tell he wasn't happy from receiving orders. This man seemed like the one to give orders. He wanted control. But then again, didn't everybody?_

_Actually, Wolf had been under the impression that the man in front of him __**had**__ been one of the higher-ups. But apparently not._

"_If I were honest with you, I really wouldn't want to do this at all," the man stated. "I'd just kill you and be done with it. Less work for me, anyway. But they insist on revenge, making you pay. _

_Whatever. It's some sort of amusement in this hellhole."_

_Ah. So Wolf wasn't alone in his impression of this place._

"_Well, we have to get right to work now, don't we?" With that, that man pressed one of the buttons, and Wolf immediately felt excruciating pain in his waist as the stun belt activated. He gritted his teeth together and took it. He would not scream. Not yet. Not so early in the game._

"_Like that, don't you?" the man smirked. "That- and much more- is what you'll get if you don't follow instructions."_

"_It would help if you told me __**what the fucking instructions ARE!**__" Wolf bellowed, and immediately shouted as the shock was activated on his legs and arms at the same time._

_The man clucked his tongue. "Tsk, tsk. I would have thought that you would have lasted longer than that. As for the instructions, you are to repeat what you were taught in the last session."_

_Wolf's eyes widened. The last session had been three days ago! (They always gave him time to recover- that was probably why he didn't appear to be too badly injured.) But still, there were certain things he had been "taught." He was sure he would forget some. Actually, the things had only been told to him three times- not nearly enough for them to be pounded into his head._

_The man must have noticed his hesitation, for he rolled his eyes and said, "I am…"_

_Oh. It was coming back to him- sort of._

"_I am nothing. I am worth nothing…" Dammit, why couldn't he remember?_

_The man smiled viciously and pushed the button. Wolf groaned in pain this time as shocks ran though his legs. "We can go all night. Personally, I'd prefer not to, but it's in your hands. You'd better start scanning you memory. Now, start back over at the beginning…"_

_That was the beginning of a long night for Wolf._

…

"_AAAGGGHH!" Wolf screamed roughly in anguish. He was faintly surprised that he still had his voice._

"_Again," the man commanded._

"_I am nothing,' Wolf said dully. His raspy voice was suffering. "I am worth nothing. Alex lies…"_

_And the cycle started again._

…

_By the time they dumped him back in his room, Wolf was shaking and burns covered the areas where the belts had been._

_It was morning now. The session had lasted the whole night._

_Was it true? Was Alex really…_

_In normal conditions, he wouldn't have believed what he had been forced to repeat throughout the night. But the lack of sleep had caught up to him, and his exhausted brain had no choice but to believe it was true._

_Forgetting all sense of pride, Wolf curled up on the floor, ignoring the ever-playing song of Copacabana, and cried._

-XD-

Alex Rider walked swiftly through the halls of St. Dominic's, barely pausing to wave hello to the various doctors there. They all knew him of course, what with him spending countless hours there being treated for various injuries from his numerous missions.

This time, though, he wasn't there for himself, but someone much more important.

"He's in room nine," the lady at the front desk had cheerfully and helpfully informed him. Alex smirked grimly at the information. That room was where he had been after being shot by Scorpia.

Even though Wolf was still in the SAS, it appeared that they too sent their wounded soldiers to St. Dominic's. Alex wasn't complaining- at least he would be able to see Wolf at all.

After what seemed like forever (but in reality was only a few minutes), he reached Wolf's room.

**Carlos Ahana**, the sign outside the door said. Alex smirked as he remembered what Wolf's name had _really _been.

He had found out one day while snooping around the Royal and General. Luckily, his uncle had taught him about hacking, and it was without too much difficulty that he managed to see Wolf's file.

Carlos' name had once been Ahana Honiahaka, due to his Native American heritage. He had truly and fully despised that, though, so he had changed his name as soon as he could to Carlos Ahana. Everyone thought he was Spanish now, but Wolf just stood by and let them believe what they wanted to believe.

Alex took a few deep breaths. He wasn't sure what Wolf's reaction would be when he got in the room. The doctors had said that he wasn't too badly hurt, strangely. For a man imprisoned in a torturous place for about three months, his injuries seemed minor.

That didn't mean they weren't there, though. When the SAS team had found him, Wolf had had numerous cuts, contusions, scars, and cracked/broken bones. Plus, there were recent-looking burn scars on his waist, arms, and legs and a suspicious dent (there was no other word for it) in his forehead. But there was nowhere near the amount of damage a normal torture victim would have had.

Suddenly, the door opened, causing Alex to uncharacteristically jump.

It was just the doctor. "Oh! Mr. Rider, sorry, I didn't see you." His face darkened. "Mr. Ahana has been waiting to see you."

For some reason, Alex felt a strange sense of foreboding. "Okay…thanks."

He reached for the door handle, but the doctor reached out to touch his shoulder. "Mr. Rider, I…" Here, his voice faltered. "Please, just remember that the time spent in…that place has left Mr. Ahana rather mentally unstable. It's not his fault."

Alex frowned as he watched the doctor hustle away from him and hurry down the hallway, seemingly to check on another patient. What was that all about?

…But never mind, he had to see Wolf. He opened the door fully and stepped in the room.

…

Alex wasn't sure what he was expecting, but this wasn't it.

"Now it's a disco…but not for Lola. Still in the dress she used to wear, faded feathers in her hair…"

The blond spy stared, shocked, at Wolf- or, really, the person who had once been Wolf. The usually arrogant, irritable man was lying in his bed staring straight forward. His eyes were blank, making him look catatonic, and he was singing that Barry Manilow song- Conapabana or something like that.

"She sits there so refined, and drinks herself half-blind…"

Alex wondered if Wolf knew he was in the room.

"She lost her youth and she lost her Tony...Now she's lost her mind…"

Wolf started on the chorus, making Alex believe that the man really _didn't_ know that he was there.

"…At the copa…don't fall in love. Don't fall in love…"

Wolf's voice died down to a faint whisper, then nothing.

After Alex watched him stare at the wall for another minute or two, he cleared his throat softly. Said man's head whipped around so fast that Alex was surprised he didn't get whiplash- though, even if he had, Wolf probably wouldn't have shown it. "Wolf?"

As if Alex's voice had suddenly triggered his mind into working, a weird, slightly crazed look made itself present on his face. "Oh, hi Cub…" he said dully.

The blond wasn't sure what to think. On one hand, Wolf was responding to him, which was a good thing. On the other hand, he _really_ wasn't acting like himself. 'Oh, hi Cub?' Alex had known Wolf long to know that Wolf did not do 'civilized.'

"Hey, Wolf…How are you feeling?"

"Fine…although I don't think I should tell _you_," Wolf spat. "Filthy traitor," he muttered, turning away from Alex.

What? What was Wolf going on about? Had the time in…that _place_ messed up Wolf's mind more than he had originally thought?

"I really don't know what you're talking about, Wolf, and frankly I think you're being ridiculous right now," he snapped. When he got no response, he sighed. "Look, I really am glad you're back. But I think you need some help- help that I hope you're going to get."

Wolf turned back towards him. "I- I'm sorry. It's been a hard time for me, okay?"

Alex could still see a glimmer of _something_ in the man's eyes, but he nodded. "I understand. It's horrible that that happened to you. But we're going to put that in our past." Somewhere in his subconscious, Alex registered that he was sounding very…adult-like today.

He changed the subject. "When did the doctor say you could go home?" he asked.

Wolf's face brightened slightly at that. "Well, I think I should be able to go home pretty soon- sometime in the next week, probably. But, the bad thing is, I'll probably be either in a wheelchair or crutches then. My legs got damaged from the burns…"

The teen- although he really wouldn't be a teen for much longer- grimaced. He knew all too well what that felt like. "Well, we'll get you up and walking in no time…"

Alex hated this. This stiffness, the feeling of strangeness, the foreign gap that had been created between them ever since Wolf left on this mission.

"Well, thanks for coming, I guess." Wolf still sounded angry and his eyes had gone cold again.

The blond didn't push the matter. He could only guess what Wolf had gone through in that hell.

"Bye, Carlos."

"See you later Cub."

Alex turned and walked out of the door. He had some thinking to do.

-XD-

_He was numb._

_He was broken._

-XD-

**AN: Hmmm…I wonder what the full paragraph of what Wolf had to say was? Maybe you'll find out in the next chapter, who knows…?**

**Please Review! A minute of your time for lots of ours!**

**Tigertopaz-Titanium Banana **


	3. Drip Dry

**AN: I am sincerely sorry for the lack of updates. I really had no excuse for that, and now I feel pretty horrible. D:**

**I want to give a HUGE shoutout to Owltalon. You should all go thank her for convincing me to actually finish this chapter. XD**

**Summary: When all else fails, Alex knows he can come back to the arms of the one he loves. But what happens when those arms become damaged? What happens when they let him fall?**

**Warnings: Slash, torture scenes, language, excessive use of Barry Manilow lyrics…**

**Rating: M**

**I disclaim anything you recognize. Introducing…*drumroll***

**His Loving Arms Chapter 3: Drip Dry**

_Again, that song was playing. It played over and over, never stopping. Wolf wondered where the sound came from._

_"…At the copa…don't fall in love. Don't fall in love…"_

_In the beginning, Wolf had shouted for it to stop. Begged, even. Still, the song played on, even during the night that wasn't really night. Because he could never tell in here._

_The door opened, almost making him flinch, but he was more used to it by now. Another shapeless person stepped inside the room, bearing the same cloth that had been introduced to his face already too many times._

"_He will see you again."_

_Now, Wolf barely flinched as the sticky-sweet scent invaded his nostrils once more, and he fell into a drugged unconsciousness._

…

_Wolf woke up slowly, blinking wearily. He reached up to rub his eyes, but something was holding his hands back. No, something was holding his whole body back. _

_Once Wolf had gathered his bearings, he looked at his surroundings. He was indeed tired down, his heard facing up to see…a large bucket of sorts?_

"_Wondering what that is?" someone commented. Wolf's head snapped around – or, it would have if it had been able to move._

"_What the hell is this?" Wolf spat. The man chucked, though without much humor. "You'll find out soon."_

_That didn't sound good._

"_I was informed that you caused one of the guards…trouble a few days ago. Hopefully, you have seen your mistake, and will not make the same mistake again."_

_Wolf stayed silent. He thought he knew why he was in the position._

"_Now, you're in here to sort of…think of all that you've done so far." Wolf was expecting the man to walk out of the room, but instead, said man took a dirty white cloth, thankfully __**not **__reeking of chloroform, out of his back pocket. He tied it tightly around Wolf's eyes, despite his protests. Finally, when Wolf was successfully blinded, the man walked out of the room, leaving Wolf to deal with his thoughts._

_He squinted against the blind, trying to make out a shape or anything. With a small, barely noticeable start, Wolf remembered that there had been a bucket above his head. He thought he knew what it was, and started to have a sinking feeling in his stomach._

_A drop of water fell onto his forehead. Confused, he squinted again, trying to see where it had come from. _

_Then, it hit him. They were using the old method of Chinese Water Torture. He almost sighed at the cliché-ness of it. Wolf had learned about this in RTI – Resistance to Interrogation. They had, to some peoples' amusement, watched a show on it – Mythbusters, an American show. The Mythbusters had tested it, and apparently, the torture wasn't that effective – when the drops of water were evenly timed. It was more traumatic, however, when the drops came at random._

_Then again, they probably weren't a prisoner of a crazy terrorist group determined for revenge. It would be traumatic either way. _

_Wolf sat there, waiting. Another drop fell. This time, Wolf felt it. It was cold and Wolf felt exactly where it hit his forehead. He wondered if, after this was over, a dent would form right where the drops were falling._

_Drop upon drop kept falling. Wolf wondered if eventually, they would just simply dump the entire bucket of liquid onto him._

_The noise itself was infuriating. It never stopped, always happening as the water landed on his forehead. It would be foolish to think that there'd be no noise, some reminded that Wolf was, in fact, here, and not having a complex nightmare. A nightmare brought to life horrifically by these deranged psychopaths. _

_Another drip. Wolf wanted to scream at the people, to rage at them until they let him go. _

_But he couldn't do that. He couldn't let them win._

_All he could do was stare into the darkness, waiting for the next drop._

_..._

_Wolf didn't even know how there was still water left in the bucket, but the drops never completely stopped, hitting at different intervals of time. Just as he thought the drips had stopped, another would hit him, beginning the entire cycle over again. Despite the ever-dripping water, Wolf was about to drop into a much-needed sleep. _

_Suddenly, though, he heard footsteps. They were feather-light, but Wolf was sure he now had enhanced hearing thanks to the dulling of his sight. They stopped right next to him, and Wolf tensed slightly in apprehension._

_He started when something – a needle – pierced the flesh of his right arm. He winced as it injected something into him, and was pulled out. The person that had done it quickly left, and the room was quickly plunged back into complete darkness._

_Wolf still tried to go to sleep, though, and found he couldn't. And not in the way that he was too pumped up or nervous. He physically couldn't go to sleep. Wolf would be at the brink of sleep, always, but something would draw him away from that edge, and he'd be brought back to the room, back to the continuous dripping. It was maddening, although Wolf wasn't entirely sure that he hadn't gone mad already, bound to a chair with water dripped on his forehead._

_Time seemed to drag on. How much had he lost already? Enough, it seemed. _

_It would be a miracle, at least, to him, if he survived this._

…

_Minutes, hours, days passed. Wolf didn't know. It seemed as though it had gone on forever…though he couldn't tell for sure. As soon as the first infuriating drop had hit his head, the world had become timeless._

_Against his will, Wolf moaned. It was a low and deep sound that came from the back of his throat. He didn't care if his captors were watching him. He didn't care if they saw his weakness. Didn't care if they heard him scream. He just wanted out. Out of this room, out of this place, out of this reality, out of this world, out of this hell…_

_Wolf's thoughts blended together in this fashion for quite a while – or what seemed like a while to him. He was lost in this place, his hell on Earth. Wolf was drowning in a pool of his mind's creation._

_And still, the water dripped._

…

_Finally, thankfully, at last, someone came. Wolf was too out of it to care though, as the person roughly unbound him and started dragging him to his room by his armpits. All his sleep-deprived mind could comprehend was that he has out of that room. He was free for now._

_Vaguely, he wondered if he would ever be able to look at, let alone drink, water again. H would probably have some kind of phobia now. God, the problems that that would induce…_

_But his mind was jolted off track as he felt himself get dumped in the same room – the same song still playing. He was getting sick of Barry Manilow. Copacabana wasn't a bad song, but would they ever turn it off? At this point, he couldn't even bring himself to care as much as he normally might have.. _

_Wolf felt whatever was in that injection slowly stopping its work, for blackness was creeping up into his vision. He wondered what had actually been in the injection. It must have kept him awake for quite some time…_

_But right then, all he wanted to do was sleep._

_And sleep he did._

-XD-

"You're late, Alex. I need to you start getting here on time."

"I know."

It had become routine by now, the exchange of words as Alex walked in the door. He supposed that his therapist, Dr. Henley, allowed it because of that reason – routine. The sessions were always somewhat the same, allowing Alex a semblance of normality.

The blond quickly sat heavily on the leather chair that every therapist seemed to have.

"How has your week been?" the doctor asked carefully. He had a calming voice, one that could put you to sleep easily.

Alex considered this. "…Eventful."

"Would you like to tell me about it?" Dr. Henley probed. He probably already knew what had gone on, though, and wanted to hear what Alex said about it.

Said teen weighed his choices – an improvement, considering that the first time he'd been here, he had just sat here in stony silence and tuned the therapist out. Thank god it was MI6 paying for the sessions. Lord knows that he wouldn't be the one wasting his money by going to a therapist.

"Well, Carlos got back in from his mission, and he's in the hospital…I'm surprised he wasn't more injured. He'd been tortured, for God's sake, for about _three damn months!_" Alex shook his head. It sounded worse out loud, somehow. "Í don't think he's alright – not that I would expect him to be though. It's just…I'm worried for him," he admitted.

"Is it something that happened in the hospital?"

"I guess so. The doctor there acted strangely, and Carlos kept singing this one song – Copacabana. And he said something about me being a "filthy traitor" or something to that extent." Alex revealed. "Whatever happened there made him act really fucked up."

The doctor didn't even blink. He was used to Alex's personality – and crude language – by now. "It might be that his mind has blocked the memories of being held captive. This happens many times with patients that have gone through traumatic experiences. But have you thought about brainwashing?" Dr. Henley suggested.

Alex thought for a moment. No, he couldn't really say that he had exactly thought about it. It wasn't too far-fetched, and was a likely possibility. "That might have happened."

"When are you going to visit him again?"

"I'm going this afternoon, I think."

Dr. Henley considered this. "If you can, or if he's in a good mood, try to coax a few details out of him."

Alex nodded. When these sessions first started, he absolutely abhorred them. Now, though, he had to admit that the therapist had some damn good advice.

Of course, he was already going to try to pry details from Wolf's lips, but it felt nice to know he had some sort of…approval for his actions.

After a moment's silence, the doctor spoke up again. "Now, Alex, we're going to have to do another word association test this week."

Alex just sat there. They'd been through this before. In a way, he was glad that it was this test. That meant he didn't have to do much thinking – just say whatever came to mind first.

As usual, Dr. Henley started.

"Dirt."

"Bury." Easy enough.

"Bone."

"Death."

"Heaven."

"Hell."

The doctor stopped. "Alex, you're obviously feeling very…_morbid_ this week." Said person snorted. "Then again, a lot has happened. Why don't you go home and rest?" Dr. Henley suggested.

Glad for an excuse to leave early, Alex stood up. "Thanks," he said half-heartedly.

"See you next week, Alex," the doctor said, as always.

Alex nodded and left.

…

Alex walked yet again through the doors that led to the milky-white walls of the hospital. St. Dominic's in particular was very high-class and clean. The spy could have sworn that he'd seen a few celebrities there before – though what they were there for, he had no clue.

The very same doctor was there again. "Hello, Mr. Rider," he greeted.

Said person nodded in return before walking into the room as the doctor walked out, leaving the two people alone in the room. "Hi, Carlos." Alex tried not to sigh as the man in the hospital bed just stared at him stonily. Was that all he was ever going to do anymore? At this point, it seemed like it.

"Why did you do it?" the man in the hospital bed asked suddenly.

The voice almost startled Alex. Wolf's eyes bore into him intensely. "…What are you talking about?" This was just getting stranger and stranger.

Carlos seemed to struggle with himself for a bit, before finally choosing to say, "Become a traitor."

If Alex hadn't been so well-trained, if he hadn't been a spy, his jaw would have dropped open. Instead, he simply raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Wolf wasn't taking it. "You heard me. Now why the hell would you do it?" He was starting to look a little angry.

"I didn't do anything, _Carlos_," Alex half-snapped. Even though the man had been tortured for months and was in the hospital, he couldn't help but feel slightly mad.

"I'm not the one _selling MI6's secrets to Scorpia!_" The last part was said in a deadly hiss.

Alex was flabbergasted. "What?" How could Carlos accuse him of this?

"God! You know exactly what I'm talking about." Carlos was fuming by now. "You're able to see basically all of their files, and with all the little "trips" you take, who knows how much information you could have given them!"

"That is completely ridiculous," Alex said threateningly. Both of their voices had been gradually rising. "You know as well as I do that those were all missions – _for MI6!_" What was Carlos going crazy over? He'd even _gone with him_ on some of those trips – if you could call them that.

"Shut the hell UP! God, I'm tired of your damn excuses! As soon as I get out of here, the first thing I'm doing is going to the Royal and Fucking General to see that your ass gets KICKED OUT OF THERE." The last part was yelled, and through his anger, Alex tried not to flinch. Carlos was very intimidating when he wanted to be.

Alex was about to reply with an equally venomous response, but was interrupted by the nurse coming in and nearly dropping her things. "What in the world is going on here?"

Suddenly, the blond realized what it must have looked like. Both he and Wolf were breathing almost heavily with the strain of their anger. Not to mention that everyone in the hallway could have heard their argument. Shit. Quickly, turning while trying to avoid Carlos, he faced the nurse. "I'm sorry for causing a disruption." He then swiftly walked out, trying to ignore the heat of the others' stares on his back.

…

Alex unlocked the apartment door and stepped in, walking to the somewhat plush leather loveseat and practically collapsing in it. He stared around at the room, mentally exhausted. This was technically his apartment, but Carlos spent enough time over here to be able to call it his apartment too. The man had half his wardrobe here.

He dragged a hand over his face. What the fuck had Carlos been talking about? Was this a result of the 'brainwash' Dr. Henley had reminded him of? God, this was so confusing.

The blond spy wondered what exactly had gone on those three months. They had been hell, not only for Carlos, but for him too. Every day, he'd get up, hoping against hope that MI6 would call that day and tell them they had recovered Carlos. They had sent SAS teams for the rescue mission, and it killed Alex when they told him he couldn't go with them.

Not to understate Carlos' injuries, though. He had heard what the men had said about Carlos' condition when they found him. Alex remembered feeling numb inside at first, then that feeling quickly dissolving into anger. Wolf sounded broken.

At least they knew who had done it. It turned out that Scorpia wasn't as well-organized as they thought they were. Several board members, including (but not limited to) Brendan Chase and Giovanni and Eduardo Grimaldi, had left after the last failed mission in Egypt. They hadn't been caught because Scorpia was literally in ruins. They were losing money rapidly and their 'sponsors' had abandoned them, leaving behind the board members to try to restore the organization's former glory.

These few ex-members joined together and created an entirely different organization, using the last of their resources to get followers and supporters.

Apparently, their goal was to attack Alex too, but they did in another way – kidnapping Carlos. They knew it would get to the spy.

And they were right. It did get to him. Deep inside, he wanted nothing more than to go and kill every one of them who had caused Carlos pain.

He had to calm down though, and think rationally. MI6 would do something. He'd find a way to demolish this new organization. Everything would return to normal – well, as normal as it could possibly be.

But right now, all he wanted to do was sleep.

And sleep he did.

-XD-

_He felt numb._

_He felt broken._

-XD-

**Argh. This chapter was difficult to write – like many others say, it was like pulling teeth. I'm sorry if it was complete shit.**

**Please Review! A minute of your time for hours of mine!**

**Tigertopaz- Titanium Banana**

**PS: I believe I have found a new co-author! Have any of you heard of DayDreamingWolverine?**

**PPS: A while ago, I had to write an alternate ending chapter for the book my class was reading, The Giver. If I posted it, would anyone read it? I think it's pretty good. XD**

**PPPS: I added stuff to the last chapter. It's a minimal change, and only at the very end of it.**


	4. Losing Grip

**AN: It has been decided: I WILL FINISH THIS STORY. I know it was an insanely long wait, though. It doesn't help that my computer decided to crash and delete half the chapter. Argh, hopefully I'll have more time to update now I'm on summer vacation.**

**Summary: When all else fails, Alex knows he can come back to the arms of the one he loves. But what happens when those arms become damaged? What happens when they let him fall?**

**Warnings: Slash, torture scenes, language, excessive use of Barry Manilow lyrics…**

**Rating: M**

**I disclaim anything you recognize. Introducing…*drumroll***

**His Loving Arms Chapter 4: Losing Grip**

_Wolf was continuously going mad. Or so it seemed. "Make it stop…" he moaned, dragging his hands over his ears to mute the sounds. The song was going to drive him batty before anything else._

"_Copacabana…" Barry sang. Wolf mentally told him to shut the fuck up. That song was forever imprinted into his memory now._

_He was done with pacing around the room now, and had resigned himself to sitting in the corner. Unfortunately, that let him see how empty the room was – and how utterly alone he himself was._

"_Argh…" Why wouldn't the music just __**stop**__? Wolf let out a strangled roar as the song started all over again._

_He didn't care about the weaknesses he was showing. All he wanted was out. Out of this insane place, out of his mind. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stand this room or this song._

_This was quickly getting repetitive._

…

_Wolf felt a little better after he had cleared his head._

_Wolf snapped. Without warning, he lunged at the guard, who tried to move out of the way. Fortunately for Wolf, said guard was too bulky and slow, and Wolf landed a right hook on the person's face. The guard yelled, his voice revealing that he was male._

_Said guard yelled and stumbled back, giving Wolf the chance to kick out at him. Somehow though, the man actually dodged that, scooting out of the way surprisingly quickly. The man then lunged at Wolf, showing a good amount of muscle as he knocked the prisoner to the floor. He then proceeded to punch him, left and right, until Wolf's head slumped, dazed. Of course, he had been weakened by the various torture sessions and lack of substantial food, already. If there had been better conditions, the fight probably would have lasted longer._

_The guard pulled out two things, a handgun and a walkie talkie. This confused Wolf. Why hadn't he used those earlier?_

"_-giving me trouble," the man was talking now into the walkie talkie, keeping the handgun pointed directly at Wolf's forehead in an unmistakable warning. __**You move, I shoot.**_

"_Other guards are on their way," the voice on the other end said, and Wolf realized that they had probably seen the whole fight on camera, which was why the guard had waited so long to pull out the walkie talkie._

"_I have him at gunpoint. He's not going anywhere." _

"_Good. But I-" Whatever the voice was going to say was cut off. Wolf had taken the chance to suddenly surge up, knocking the gun out of the man's hand while he was listening to the voice. _

_The gun went off, but missed Wolf by inches. The man fell back and he leaped on top of him, ready to knock him out, when what sounded like at least three men stormed into the room, armed with tranquilizers. _

_All he heard was the shot, then the world faded to black…_

…

_Luckily, it seemed that nothing had happened while he was out… When Wolf came back to consciousness, he immediately noticed two things. One, the song was still playing. Two, he was in seemingly the same position he had fallen in. That was good. Maybe they would wait a few days before trying to take him to another session. The last one was bad enough…_

_Wolf sighed and got up slowly, rubbing his head. He slowly half-walked, half-stumbled to the corner that had now become his comfort. He sat back down, right there, leaning his head against the wall._

_Hopefully, they'd leave him alone for a while, and hopefully, he'd be out of this hell-hole soon._

-XD-

When he woke up, Alex felt wonderfully refreshed. He stretched and walked around a bit, sighing. It had certainly been a long few days. And he still had to figure out what Wolf had meant in the hospital. Good Lord, he didn't want to face the man again today. Hopefully, the atmosphere would be better this time. Maybe the doctor would stay in the room with them this time…

Alex just hoped that he would be able to keep his temper in check this time. He needed answers. Carlos had been so vague about everything so far.

…

Once again, Alex was back in the hospital. "…and should be released within the week," the doctor, Dr. Lucas, was saying. The blond shook his head lightly, realizing he had zoned out of the conversation. "That's great," he commented, avoiding eye contact with Carlos.

Said doctor smiled. "It sure is. He's been healing brilliantly. Then again, his injuries were more minor than I had expected…"

"Luckily for me," Wolf cut in gruffly. "Of course," Alex assured him absentmindedly, and it took all of his willpower not to return Wolf's surprised glance.

"Yes," Dr. Lucas agreed. "It's just that with these kinds of cases…" Here he stopped and sighed. Everyone in the room knew what he meant. They had all seen horrifically injured people, soldiers in particular. Wolf knew that he had, compared to some, gotten off easily.

Alex cleared his throat, and the depressing atmosphere vanished. "Well, thank you for everything, doctor."

"It's no problem – especially not for you," the man assured him. "After all, MI6 is the one paying the bill."

They all had to smile at that.

-XD-

The doctor had left the room shortly after that, and Alex was left alone with Carlos. "I'm…sorry," he apologized softly.

Carlos simply nodded at him once.

Alex stared a bit, but then asked. "But…I need to know what you meant. About Scorpia. And about me working for them."

The older man seemed to consider this. "I don't know why you of all people are asking me this. Seeing as you're the traitor."

Alex's eyes narrowed, but he tried not to get angry. "Just humor me, Wolf. Tell me what you meant."

"I meant that I shouldn't be telling you anything because you'll just go back to Scorpia to repost everything!"

Well, Wolf thought he was with Scorpia. That much was obvious, as well as the fact that he had probably been taught that during his time in captivity.

"Wolf. Please tell me what they told you in there."

Said man glared at him and offered no comment. Alex sighed. Hopefully the therapist from MI6 would be able to coax more out of Wolf later…

Apparently said therapist would be coming to their apartment for the appointments. The reason why Carlos wouldn't be coming to an normal office escaped him.

Alex cleared his throat. "Well…Thanks," he offered up weakly, and smiled before leaving the room.

-XD-

**Please Review! A minute of your time for hours of mine!**

**Tigertopaz- Titanium Banana**

**PS: Oh, and do any of you have any idea of what I could use as a "Book Cover" image? I've been looking around…**


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